


Performance Expectations

by Laikin394



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foreskin Play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Premature Ejaculation, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:59:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laikin394/pseuds/Laikin394
Summary: A year ago, if you asked Victor Nikiforov to describe his life in one word, he would not without pride call it controlled.  A year ago he would laugh at the idea of an urge to touch someone, of being drawn to another person to the point where resistance was futile. But it almost hurt him to look at Yuuri and not reach out for him, to have him so close and not confirm this proximity with a touch.However, Yuuri panics when he's close to Victor, often cumming too soon. And that has to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am rusty at writing. It's unbeta-ed and I will most likely regret posting this, but I've been obsessed with Victuuri lately. Please do put my nose in all mistakes I made.

A year ago, if you asked Victor Nikiforov to describe his life in one word, he would not without pride call it controlled. That is, unless he wanted to charm the reporter and give him a more sophisticated reply. After all, no one would shame a celebrity for being too talkative and delivering answers that exceed the set one-word limit.

Nevertheless, Victor has been in charge of all events in his life since he was five years old. He could forget when Yakov’s birthday was, but he remembered exactly when the next interview would take place. Moreover, Victor has always been confident in himself and he knew how to behave at any given minute. He was impeccably polite with his fans, just cheeky enough at the interviews and managed his Instagram feed in a way that rewarded him with a growing number of likes per photo and ever increasing subscribers base.

It was not until he moved to Hasetsu that Victor began doubting the ability to control his life. Now, as he watched Yuuri pushing the backpack into the locker, his dark shirt riding up just enough to reveal a tantalizingly thin stripe of pale skin over the waistband of matching black pants, Victor could only thank his fortune for the deserted locker room. He acted more on an impulse, rather than making a carefully thought-over decision like an old Victor would, yet even the presence of anyone else in the room could not make him behave differently.

A year ago he would laugh at the idea of an urge to touch someone, of being drawn to another person to the point where resistance was futile. But it almost hurt him to look at Yuuri and not reach out for him, to have him so close and not confirm this proximity with a touch. 

Victor felt a pang of guilt, when his swift movement startled Yuuri, but he did not dwell of the feeling, exhaling contently when his fingers brushed the exposed skin just under the hem of the shirt.  
“Yu-uuri,” he murmured contently, brushing his nose against the longer hairs at the nape of the Yuuri’s neck. Victor did not really have anything else to say at the moment, but the mere sound of this name, so familiar yet so different from all other Yuriys’ he had known in his life, served as a delightful acknowledgement of his fiancé’s presence. 

Yuuri turned his head slightly to the right, ever attentive to what Victor would say next. But Victor did not care for other words, he did not need any words, when instead his lips got the chance to feverishly press to the skin just under the man’s earlobe. Normally, outside the rink Yuuri’s confidence evaporated, leaving behind this almost childlike innocence, which drove Victor insane. He had all but chaste thoughts when his hands slid higher under Yuuri’s shirt, fingers spread greedily in attempt to cover as much skin as he could, stroking and guiding the man closer to him, distracted only enough to place a trail of kisses across the soft skin of Yuuri’s cheek.

“D-don’t,” Yuuri utters, and the words shatter Victor, knocking the breath out of him. It hurts more than he imagined, the rejection stabbing him between the ribs, paralyzing him, and Victor’s arms drop to his sides limply.

“You don’t like it.” Disappointment seeps into his voice, leaving bitterness on his tongue. Victor tries to remain calm, but his face contorts, his expression morphing into hurt and disgust from forcing his unwanted attention on Yuuri.

“It’s not that.”

It takes Yuuri almost a full minute to remove his glasses, fold their bright blue arms and hide them into the locker. Victor suspects that his fiancé purposefully delays the moment where he has to face him, but he patiently waits for Yuuri to gather the courage and deliver his sentence.

“I…” Yuuri squints, trying to better see Victor’s face in the fuzzy blur of the surroundings. Removing his glasses may not have been a good idea. “I do. Like it, I mean.”

Victor is relieved, but he doesn’t attempt to return his hands back to the glorious warmth of the lean body next to him, even if it calls for his touch.

“Then what is it?” Yuuri parts his lips but doesn’t make a sound, his face gradually turning pink as if he is too embarrassed to voice his concerns.

“Am I fast-forwarding things?” Victor prompts, but Yuuri shakes his head. “Was I too forceful?”

“No.”

“Repetitive?” With each guess Victor’s horror of such prospects becomes more evident and Yuuri grunts, unable to utter a word and interrupt the escalating drama. “Uninventive?” Victor takes a step back, eyes getting wider. “Not… not good enough?”

“You… baka.” 

The thought of Victor – Victor, out of all people, not being good at anything is so ridiculous that it breaks his stupor and Yuuri closes the distance between them in two steps. He does it instinctively, it’s always been better when he did not spare time on doubts, and so he tiptoes, placing his palms on Victor’s shoulders, and kisses him.

It’s not the first time they kissed, but it’s the only time when Yuuri initiated it so boldly, like he knew he had permission to do so. A jolt of excitement tingles down his spine, when Victor opens his mouth obediently, meeting his lips but not trying to grab the initiative. It’s sweet to have just their lips brushing together, but Yuuri knows it will take more than their usual meek and quick kisses to convince Victor that he indeed wants him, that Victor is not merely enough for him, that he is perfect for him.

When Yuuri’s tongue glides over the smoothness of Victor’s bottom lip, the sensation is enough to make his world spin. He is caught by Victor’s arms, half-lifted and pressed securely against his hard body, although none of this possessiveness shows in the kiss. 

Yuuri is torn between the desire to savor the feeling and to proceed. The content sighs Victor makes each time he moves his mouth differently, urge him on. So Yuuri continues to explore, nearly drunk on the power he never dreamed of, the world and himself dissolving until all that remains of him are just his lips and teeth and tongue, licking and nibbling on the Victor’s thin lips, moving from the center to the corners of the mouth, still testing where the boundaries lie and subconsciously knowing he won’t meet any.

Yuuri awkwardly tries sucking Victor’s lip into his mouth, it’s warm and springy and a bit puffy from where his teeth scraped against it. Victor yields to him, moving his head lower to relieve some strain in Yuuri’s neck. Wouldn’t it be even more wonderful to have Yuuri’s hand buried into his silver hair, cupping the back if his head and urging him closer! But Yuuri doesn’t do it, and Victor lets him do whatever he feels comfortable with at the moment. 

Victor is stupidly happy just to hold Yuuri’s trembling body this close, even though had it been up to him, they would have already been unclothed. He moans shamelessly at the idea of grinding against Yuuri’s body, strong and pliable at the same time, lean and flushed, open and waiting for his touch, begging be marked as his.

Victor slowly lowers his hand to the small of Yuuri’s back, his fingers petting the protruding vertebrae on the way down reassuringly, lovingly, cautious as not to spook his timid partner. Yuuri arches back into the caressing hand, which causes their lower bodies to break apart. Victor cannot have that, he’s too greedy, he craves as much contact as he can get. Ideally, Yuuri would be sprawled on top of him, legs and arms twined until neither of them knew where one’s body ended and the other’s started. The thought is too intoxicating and the opportunity is too good to pass. Victor hooks his right leg around Yuuri’s, boldly grabbing onto his buttocks just because he can, just because he’s been eyeing the man’s behind for months, dying to squeeze perk little bottom and not gathering enough courage to do so.

It’s perfect, Yuuri’s perfect, the mixture of shyness and sin, giving himself to Victor so openly, seductive and inexperienced at the same time. Victor decides to give him another push, lead him a little further and gently slides his tongue into Yuuri’s mouth. 

Yuuri freezes when their tongues meet – in horror or disgust at the gentle touch. He cries out and shudders and then shoves Victor away, disappearing behind the bathroom door abruptly. 

Victor is left alone, anger and confusion supplanting the bliss of the previous moment, and he slams his fist against the grey door of the nearby locker, before hiding his face in his hands.  
He feels drained and pathetic, and the fact that he is still hard doesn’t make it better. He needs to go to Yuuri and apologize, he must be kind and understanding and put his desires over his own. He knows he should feel guilty for behaving like an animal, but the fresh memory of how good Yuuri felt against him brings the rush of excitement instead of regret. Victor adjusts himself, annoyed for letting his hand linger over his crotch a moment longer than needed. He contemplates the idea of simply relieving himself here and now, but without Yuuri his excitement is meaningless and Victor decides that a quick rough wank is beneath him after all.

Victor stops at the middle stall, the only one that has the door closed. The sound of his steps echoing on the tiles is accompanied by the rustle of napkins, but he doesn’t hear any sobbing. Victor places his palm on the slightly rough plastic of the door, contemplating whether he should knock, but decides against it. He knows Yuuri is aware of his presence.

“Yuuri,” he sighs, not sure what kind of apology is appropriate. “I’m sorry.” Victor ruffles his hair with his left hand, trying to come up with the solution of this problem quickly. “Look, I shouldn’t have been… If my… um… advances make you feel bad…” 

“Feel bad?” Yuuri repeats, as if he has misheard him, and Victor’s hand curls into a fist, nails scraping on the door with a screech. 

“What are you saying?” The door opens with a soft click and Yuuri emerges from behind it. His face is pink and his eyes shine in an unusual way, but it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. “Vitya?”

“I can swear to never…” Victor pauses, unfinished promise hanging in the air. He wants Yuuri to be happy and comfortable with him, but at the same time he is reluctant to give up the physical part of their relationship. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

“Because I was being selfish?” Yuuri shrugs, like running away in panic after a french kiss is no big deal. “I was so caught in the moment and I didn’t want you to stop, but I…”

“Go on,” Victor prompts, realization of what actually happened slowly forming in his mind. The fact that Yuuri’s blush creeps down to his neck only confirms his suspicion and Victor’s lips curl into an impish grin. “You… what?”

Yuuri hides his eyes and Victor chuckles, hooking his finger under the man’s chin to make him meet his gaze.

“Really, Yuuri? Just from a kiss, mmhm?” he teases kindheartedly, but Yuuri looks mortified.

“It’s… I couldn’t help it, alright? I am sorry! I know I should have lasted longer and maybe I could have, but all this was so… overwhelming.”

“Now that is the best compliment I’ve received on my performance… ever,” Victor drawls smugly, confidence restored and his eyes full of mischief again. His thumb strokes the rim of Yuuri’s lip, gliding over the part where pale skin meets even more tender softness of the lips. He leans down and Yuuri meets him halfway, as eager to be kissed as his partner is. However, this time Victor is the first to break away. He makes Yuuri turn around and meet their reflection in the mirror. Even though Yuuri can’t see much without his glasses, he is still able to make out the shape of Victor, looming over his left shoulder like a seductive demon. 

“If that kiss felt so good and could push you over the edge, can you imagine what kind of pleasure we would share once I get seriously started, mmm?”

In truth, Yuuri cannot imagine any of it – even the wildest dreams never took him that far, they are always unformed and abstract, but the way Victor talks, teasingly, sensually, and the way he is almost draped around him, are enough to have Yuuri shake with anticipation once again.

Victor can feel it, of course, and he grins, quickly hiding his face in the gentle slope of Yuuri’s neck and placing a hot open-mouthed kiss onto the exposed skin. Yuuri moans and that is enough of a reply for Victor.

“Alright then. I think that should serve as a sufficient motivation for you to complete the practice quicker. I have the rink booked only till two o’clock,” announces Victor in a cheerful tone, all the playfulness gone from his voice. “Chop-chop, enough of this procrastination,” he says and storms out of the bathroom. 

Yuuri suspects that all of this is intentional, but he cannot complain to much – he has gotten his share of pleasure after all.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he leaves the showers at the rink Yuuri knows Victor has not forgotten his promise to get seriously started. He waits for him, arms grossed in front of his chest and his whole pose radiating confidence. He gives Yuuri a long look, eyes moving from his face down to his legs. Yuuri almost has an urge to slouch, to cover himself up, although it’s silly, he is fully dressed, even more than he was this morning, with a dark jacket covering his arms down to his wrists. 

Victor lets out a long whistle in appreciation, and even if Yuuri wanted to see it as a mocking one, he can’t. There’s something serious in Victor’s eyes, contradicting the playful gestures, a hunger or a deep need. Yuuri cannot quite pin it down, but it sends shivers down his spine and draws him closer. Victor tilts his head to the side slightly, curious and expectant, and Yuuri knows that if he follows this little game of dare, he won’t have the strength to break apart once again.

“Home?” Yuuri suggests, his voice a little shaky. He didn’t realize he was nervous until he spoke, but Victor smiles.

“Yes, but first…”

“Katsuki-sama!” a squeal from behind Victor startles them both. “Could you please sign this?”

A girl, not more than ten, skips to Yuuri, unrolling an embarrassingly large poster of him. He signs it, of course, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

“I haven’t seen that particular picture of you,” mumbles Victor and adds with a chuckle, “Now I know what I need to hunt for on Amazon.” 

Yuuri grunts, because this will remain a joke only till the damn poster is actually delivered to his house.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Victor is already holding Yuuri’s backpack and grabs his hand to lead him out of the locker room. It’s surprising that Victor did not offer to sign the poster along Yuuri, but he doesn’t tease him, not when Victor is that determined.

“We… _I_ haven’t finished,” Victor announces when they get back into Yuuri’s room, deliberately stressing the word _I_ and Yuuri shifts uncomfortably at the pun. “Is there a way this could be… fixed?”

Yuuri finds himself trapped against his wardrobe, with Victor’s palms pressed on the wooden doors above his shoulders, but their bodies not touching directly. He is determined to hold back his own release until it’s Victor who is completely lost in the pleasure, moaning and breathing hard.

He knows that this is what Victor is secretly expecting from him, even though he may be flattered at the idea of getting Yuuri to cum with just a kiss. And he would – more than anything – love to give them both an astonishing night. He would readily gift Vitya with his body and soul.

He’s not a complete stranger to sex, but it has never been that important for him. Yuuri has had wet dreams – and too many of them were associated with a certain skater, not that he would admit it – but he never took time to explore his body. His own satisfaction has been quick and straightforward, which, unfortunately, showed today. His face heats up at the memory of him cumming as soon as Victor’s tongue slid in his mouth, his cock stirring nonetheless. Yuuri is ashamed at how his body reacts, how quickly he grows needy and how little is required to make him climax. 

Yuuri had time today to plan his actions out, every carefully memorized, but he realizes that his plan would never be complete. His mind goes blank when Victor touches him, his body reaching the point of no return embarrassingly quickly, and he can’t bring himself to do anything to Vitya – say, even look him in the eye – after that. He desperately wants this to change, to become the man Victor deserves and the person Victor sees when he looks at him. Victor found all of his insecurities nothing shorter than adorable or completely ignoring them. So the least Yuuri could do is make their _interaction_ last longer than a couple of minutes.

But as they kiss, Yuuri gets lost in the warmth of Victor’s mouth over his. Victor teases him with little pecks, making his heart flutter each time every little kiss ends. They do get longer and longer, the moist velvety feeling of his lover’s lips gliding over his, making Yuuri restless with heat recoiling and growing in his stomach just under his navel. He wants to pick up from where it ended the last time, and he has to do it right. 

Yuuri swallows uneasily and then, with a deep intake of breath he moves his tongue forward, mimicking Victors movements. First, he follows the contour of Victor’s lips with short tiny licks, not aiming for particular area but rather familiarizing himself once again with their shape. Then he goes a little further, hitting the smooth edges of Victor’s teeth and finally meeting his tongue. Victor moans, a deep and longing sound vibrating in his chest. Yuuri is scared that he did something wrong, that he somehow hurt him, but the way Victor thrusts forward tells him that this is not the case.

Their bodies collide and as Victor’s hands cradle his face, Yuuri understands how little he knew about kissing before. It is almost a dance of their own – tongues touching and withdrawing, longer sensual slides changing to short aggressive flicks. The moans and sighs come as if from a distance and Yuuri is unsure who is responsible for them. Victor’s hands miraculously find their way under his shirt, nails grazing the skin lightly, stroking firmly in patterns that do not repeat themselves. It’s astonishing how easily Victor made him step away from the plan and melt his brain with such ease.

“Unfair,” breathes Yuuri when they break apart for a gulp of air. He uses the moment of confusion to duck and slither away. With his heart pounding like this and shivers of pleasure pulsing in places where Victor touched him, he won’t last long.

“What exactly?” Victor sounds out of breath as well, which gives Yuuri hope he’s not the one affected by that kiss. He tries to rapidly come up with appropriate response, which would buy him some time before they continue.

“Y-you… You’ve always watched me perform,” he begins and Victor frowns, uncertain where this is going. “I like it,” Yuuri quickly corrects himself, “but I would like to… to see you too, you know?”

“Oh,” is all Victor says, his finger tapping his lips as he thinks it over. “What should I perform for you then? A dance?”

Yuuri shakes his head vigorously. He doesn’t want this to turn into a superficial show.

“I just want to see you,” he repeats helplessly and gently pushes the coat off Victor’s shoulders, hoping that he will understand what he needs without further explanation.

Victor carelessly steps over the discarded coat on the floor, moving closer to bed as his slender fingers work on the neat row of buttons on his white shirt. Yuuri sucks in a breath when the shirt opens, never failing to be amazed at the view of flawless unmarked skin. Victors shrugs the shirt off and grasps the hem of Yuuri’s tee, but Yuuri shakes his head again.

“Not yet. Go on,” he rasps, never taking his eyes off Victor, who smiles, but doesn’t argue.

Victor sits on the bed, bending down to untie his shoes and then stands back up, his fingers toying with the shiny button on top of the zipper, but in no rush to push it out of the loop.

“How am I doing so far?” he teases, and as if to emphasize his arousal, cups his crotch. The straining fabric makes the shape of his cock obscenely clear.

“W-wonderful,” utters Yuuri, breaking into sweat. He has to mimic Victors movements, hastily clenching his own dick not to blow right here and now.

“Oh, you naughty,” chides Victor, his palm stroking the bulging front of his pants slowly. “Want a touch?”

His hand covers Yuuri’s and then he is touching Victor _there_ , right there where he is so hard and hot and throbbing. It’s too much, too soon and Yuuri shuts his eyes so tightly, the white hot stars dance on the back of his lids, as he sobs and holds onto Victor’s hand, shaking and cumming before he could do anything it prevent it. 

It’s blissful and humiliating at the same time. The tear of anger and relief escapes from the corner of his eye and Yuuri quickly wipes it off with his left hand. Victor is still holding his palm over his cock, not letting go. Yuuri is terrified at the idea of opening his eyes and seeing Victor disgusted and disappointed. Yuuri begins to tremble again and bites his lip hard, on the verge of bursting into tears.

“You are not running away, are you?” Victor’s arm curls around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Yes! No… Victor! I j-just…”

“I know,” Victor replies carelessly, sitting down on the bed and pulling Yuuri to stand between his legs. “But,” he adds, pulling Yuuri’s shirt up and nuzzling his belly with his nose, “it doesn’t mean I am done with you.”

Victor kisses his stomach and his hair tickles Yuuri’s skin, eliciting a giggle from Yuuri.

“You’re not mad?” Yuuri asks, finally daring to open his eyes and looking down at Victor.

“Why the heck would I be mad?” mumbles Victor, continuing to place kisses around his navel. “Well, a bit upset since I didn't get to see you cum, but…” he inhales slowly and Yuuri tries to push his head away, mortified.

“I-I need a shower,” he squeaks and Victor hums in response.

“Or a bath, perhaps?”

“Or a bath,” agrees Yuuri and Victor’s eyes light up.

“A _tongue_ bath, I hope,” he purrs, sticking his tongue out and Yuuri has to pry Victor’s head away before he does just that.

“No! Victor!” he exclaims, quickly lowering his voice when he remembers they are not alone in the house. “Have you lost all shame?”

“Dorogoi, to lose my shame I’d have to have some in the first place.”

“You are impossible.”

“Agreed. Punish me then?”

Yuuri doesn’t have a smart reply ready and he looks around the room helplessly. Even despite his orgasm his arousal is not completely gone and of course Victor’s half-joking offer to give him a tongue bath doesn’t make it easier. Victor looks up at him, mischievous but patient, his loving gaze just another form of caress. It’s a bit unsettling to be looked at like that, from a position where Victor has to throw his head back and Yuuri gets a strange feeling of being worshiped. He feels warm and tingly, now wanting to cry for another reason, and he touches the side of Victor’s face in disbelief. Victor nuzzles his palm, quickly kissing it and returning his eyes to Yuuri’s face. 

It’s probably because of these eyes, attentive and searching and so blue, that an idea strikes Yuuri.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back,” he promises and, disentangling himself from Victor’s arms, dashes to the wardrobe. He pulls out the tie – pale blue one, the very same Victor promised to burn – and proudly presents it to Victor.

“What is that for?” he grumbles and Yuuri’s smile shrinks a little.

“Um… Please?” he says, unable to explain how undeserving and shy he feels being watched like that.

“Alright,” Victor huffs and Yuuri beams, wrapping the tie around his head, being extra careful not to tug on Victor’s hair.

He carefully pushes on his shoulders, making Victor lie down on the bed. Being Victor, he makes a show of it, sprawling across the covers and arching lazily. He is a show-off but it works, and Yuuri’s jaw drops a little as he takes his time eyeing the glorious body in front of him. He hesitates another moment, before he succumbs to the temptation of touching his fiancé.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should give you a warning in case foreskin, semen and rimming gross you out. ~~but then why the hell would you be reading gay porn?~~ Yeah, there will be that.

Yuuri has seen Victor naked – difficult to avoid, really, when he parades his nudity so bluntly – but now there is no need to divert his eyes to be polite. Yuuri stares, still in awe that it is his hand gliding over the taut stomach. He takes in the impeccably defined muscles and the little constellation of beauty marks on Victor’s ribcage. He likes the responsiveness of his partner, the blurred lines of his flush disappearing just above his collarbones, Victor’s increased breathing and his lips, parted in a silent prayer. Blindfolded, he still doesn’t look vulnerable, his appearance as magnetic as ever.

Yuuri bends down, placing a soft kiss on Victor’s nose and it’s only natural that his lips quickly slide to that calling mouth. He thinks he is getting a hang of it now, his spine tingling at the muffled moan Victor makes at a particularly wicked flick of Yuuri’s tongue. He intended to move on to other things, but Victor’s kiss is so warm, so inviting, and, impossibly, arousing him even more with each second. It’s as if the entire world has come to concentrate in the small area where their lips touch, and the air between them becomes so heated that Yuuri can swear he can feel little electric sparks dancing on his face. Victor grants impatiently and then his arms are pulling Yuuri’s head closer, impossibly closer, but Yuuri’s having none of that.

“Oh, you,” huffs Victor, when his arms are firmly placed and held onto the bed. He licks his lips quickly, visibly swollen and much darker in colour now. His tone quickly changes to a teasing coo. “Cruel little katsudon”.

“Vitya!”

“Yes, my love?”

“Don’t mock me!”

“You deny me the chance to touch you. Should I call you a…”

Victor positively yelps when Yuuri bites his shoulder, hard enough to surprise him, but not causing real pain.

“Ah! Da!” he practically shouts, when Yuuri’s tongue laps the place where his teeth sank into the skin. The body underneath him turns almost boneless, as Yuuri alternates between deliberately long licks and careful nibbling.

He places a hand over’s Victor’s mouth to muffle the overenthusiastic shouts of encouragement – as if he needed any – but he himself cannot keep quiet when a clever tongue tickles the underside of his palm. Yuuri groans, biting on the knuckles of his right hand, while Victor, getting a hold of Yuuri’s other hand, closes his mouth around two fingers. 

Victor doesn’t settle for a simple in and out motion. The velvety warmth of that wicked mouth, engulfing his digits, alone would be more than enough to make Yuuri weak in the knees. But Victor’s tongue circles around the captured fingers, caressing them in the most delicious way, nibbling on the sensitive tips and then taking them deep, until Yuuri gasps. Victor pays no mind to it, making his own little moans of enjoyment, his thumb repeatedly stroking the nearly transparent skin on Yuuri’s wrist just over his fluttering pulse. 

Yuuri cannot help wondering if Victor’s enthusiasm and dedication would translate to… to other things he could do with that talented mouth. That naughty thought makes his stomach turn with a mixture of burning need to experience it and shame for thinking about Victor’s mouth on him. Yuuri yanks his hand away quickly, leaving Victor’s lips with a faint wet plop and making them both grunt at a loss. Yuuri needs to focus, and he returns to his previous plan – touching and observing, discovering and learning Victor in a way no one else has the right to.

His moist fingers circle the raised silky tops of Victor’s nipples, marveling at how quickly they get smaller and tauter at the touch. He sighs and Victor echoes him, wiggling and arching on the bed, restless. Yuuri follows the curve of Victor’s collarbone, trying to apply sufficient pressure for his touch not to be ticklish, and decides that just his hands are not enough. He grazes the right nipple with his teeth, before sucking it hard into his mouth on a whim. Victor nearly howls, thrusting up into the air and his hands drop onto the covers by his sides, rumpling the fabric in his fists. Yuuri is strangely pleased that Victor didn’t try to hold him in place this time and rewards him with another bite – a careful one, but still harder than he would like.

Victor moans again, completely wanton. Yuuri covers his entire chest with generous licks and numerous bites, until the red circles no longer faint. A part of him loves seeing Victor marked of him, claimed by him, and the other part cannot still believe it’s happening.

“Yuuri,” Victor begs, when the trail of kisses and nibbles moves lower, agonizingly slow. “Ah! Please!”

The urgency in his voice makes it break, and Yuuri doesn’t want to keep him waiting longer, despite himself being quite nervous about the next part. His hands, however, do not shake as he undoes the button and the fly of Victor’s trousers, pulling them off those long legs in a smooth move. He is less confident with Victor’s underwear, and tugs the waistband until only the head of Victor’s cock is exposed.

Yuuri pauses, gazing at the smooth tip. He’s so close he can smell Victor – salty and a bit sharp, with a tinge of metal and something else he cannot describe. Determined, he closes his eyes and gives the swollen head a kiss. It’s wet and surprisingly hot, a lot warmer than Victor’s skin felt. Yuuri does it again, now lingering a little longer and parting his lips to cover more flesh. Victor gasps each time his lips leave him and shudders every time he is touched. 

Yuuri drags the tip of his tongue on the tense skin on the underside of the exposed cock, enjoying the strained moans. He gets bolder, following the ridges with his tongue before making it flat and licking across the head. His glasses must be digging into Victor’s belly and he takes them off, tossing them under the bed not to step on them. Yuuri pulls Victor’s trunks lower, until Victor is finally free of clothes. 

“I so wish I could see you,” Victor whispers feverishly, shifting to prop himself on his elbows. The tie across his eyes is a bit askew, but still blocking his vision. “I – ah!” he throws his head back when Yuuri gives his cock a gentle tug, but quickly regains his composure. 

“I’d watch you, so beautiful…”

“Victor!”

“M-marvellous.”

Yuuri’s hand slides faster, pushing the silky skin over the hard shaft until it covers the cockhead.

“F-fant… Ah! Again!” he cries, when Yuuri’s tongue tries to slither between the foreskin and the moist head. 

Yuuri obliges, swirling his tongue around and moving his hand down to lap on the tender tip. He is fascinated by how easily the foreskin glides over the swollen head, and gently pinches it between his lips, which earns him a desperate moan and an instinctive buck of the hips. He is as excited as Victor is, he lost count for which time this day he feels the dull ache of arousal nestled low in his stomach. Yuuri adjusts himself in his pants, irritated that yet again he is selfishly thinking of his own pleasure.

“Oh god,” Victor praises, when the head of his cock gradually penetrates the tight seal of Yuuri’s lips. It goes as far as to press against the roof of Yuuri’s mouth - he can’t go deep, the angle is wrong – but it’s still a bliss. Yuuri tries to match the movements of his tongue, caressing the underside of the crown with the pace of his fist stroking over the exposed part of the shaft. It’s hard to coordinate it perfectly, combined with the need to bob his head up and down, but he tries his best and the string of groans and pleas from Victor reassure that he’s doing it right.

It’s new and unusual, and Yuuri’s jaw and neck get quickly tired from the strain, so he takes small breaks where the dance of his fingers on the slippery skin compensates the lack of other caresses. 

“Wait, it’s too much,” Victor breathes, moving away. “Like this,” he declares, gracefully flipping over and resting his chest on the bed, arms outstretched and his buttocks pushed up in the air. “Now. Please. I’ll die if you keep torturing me.”

Realization of what exactly Victor is asking of him makes him break into cold sweat. He is terrified and painfully turned on. As he yanks his shirt off, Yuuri mentally orders himself to cease the stupid doubts. He is naked in a record time, trembling with anticipation and dread.

The mattress bends and squeaks under his knees when he gets on the bed. Victor spreads his legs further, tempting, inviting and Yuuri cups his butt cheeks, bracing himself. His own cock is covered with a mixture of his semen and the precum, and he collects some of the wetness to spread it in the crevice between those heavenly firm buttocks.

“Davai uzhe,” Victor calls, thrusting back. His persistence and bossiness are maddening, and Yuuri’s cock twitches. “Nu!”

The commands are unusual – perhaps, Victor is just as nervous as he is – and they do encourage Yuuri, but at the same time make him fuss.

“Vitya,” he drawls in a warning tone after another string of Russian exclamations is thrown in him. He is so hard it’s becoming painful, but he tries to hold back and not rush things. Victor’s impatience doesn’t help but adds to the stress and the pressure of expectations.

Yuuri doesn’t know what possesses him, but with a firm grasp on himself, he smacks Victor’s ass cheek with his cock, cutting him midsentence. Yuuri instantly regrets it, although there is no turning back now. He just goes with it and smacks the other cheek, harder, gasping at the delicious light sting shooting through his shaft. 

When the head of his cock is bluntly pressed right at the wrinkled pink opening, Yuuri backs off. It seems too small to accommodate him and he is too scared of hurting Victor. Instead Yuuri leans forward slightly and starts grinding against the delicate flesh without attempting to push in. 

He’s breaking a sweat, too clumsy and shaky, and his cock throbs uncontrollably. He tries to hold back, but the Victor pushes against him enthusiastically, setting a faster pace. Yuuri is seizes him by the waist, trying to slow him down, but failing, and he just helplessly watches the head of his cock, angrily red, peek out and hide between the sinewy ass cheeks. 

Victor clenches his buttocks that Yuuri’s body spasms. He bites hard on his lip to hold back a cry of animalistic joy, as the hot pulsing waves of pleasure ripple through him, coming out in short powerful bursts for what seems like an eternity. He is devastated but he’s more alive than he has ever felt.

“Was is a good one?” Victor teases, his smile coming through in his smug tone.

Yuuri doesn’t reply. He is panting, his mind is a bit foggy. 

“Yuuri?” Victor calls, concern seeping into his voice. “Are you…”

He chokes when a warm tongue slithers down his spine, following the trail of cum that has landed on the small of his back.

“Blyad’!” he groans, as Yuuri’s soft tongue continues to clean him up, unhurriedly getting lower. 

An indignifying mewl escapes him when Yuuri’s tongue grazes his anus. The light brushes soon turn into long licks, from his tail bone to his balls and back up. Yuuri’s face is pressed against his rear firmly, as he licks and licks and _licks_ , gentle and demanding, his tongue going stiff at times in attempt to push through the tight ring of muscles. Victor’s cock is leaking precum, smacking against his belly as it jerks and pulsates, unable to get over the edge without direct stimulation.

Yuuri finally shows some mercy and Victor bites on the sheets to muffle his scream. His cock spurts in Yuuri’s hands after a single careful pull, the sensation heightened by his index finger massaging the spot right where the head of his cock connects to the shaft. Yuuri guides his through the orgasm so skillfully, so effortlessly, like it’s the most natural thing to you, stretching it out until Victor collapses on the bed, broken and breathless.

Yuuri helps his to straighten his legs and drapes his body over Victor’s, keeping most of his weight on his arms not to crush his lover.

“I love you,” he says casually, freeing his lover from the tie around his head and Victor’s poor heart nearly bursts with happiness. “I’m sorry I…uh… pulled a Chris on you. For, like, the third time today.”

“You what? Oh gods.” Victor snorts and begins to shake with laughter, rocking Yuuri on top of him. “ _Pulled a Chris??_ ”

“That’s what Phichit says.”

“Is it how we are calling it now too?”

It’s infectious, and Yuuri’s giggles join Victor’s.

“But seriously, Vitya. I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be sorry if we do not do this again.”

“Oh?” Yuuri beams, relieved that Victor doesn’t seem upset or disappointed. “Again? Is it a threat or a promise?” he asks and Victor hums, pretending to be deep in thought.

“I don’t know an answer to that, my love,” he replies with a fake sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to try and see.”


End file.
